Against all Darkness
by TJMike
Summary: Robert Stanford, the current Heir of the acursed Stanford Manor and the Hamlet near it, has begun a journey that seeks to cleanse the lands of his Ancestor from the evil that lurks among the shadows. With the help of an unlikely groups of "heroes", Mr. Stanford will venture into strange lands long forgotten, and maybe some day, into the very deeps of the... Darkest Dungeon.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, and welcome back to a new story! This time I bring you one of my favorite games of 2016 (even though I began to play it during the beta). Anyways, I thought it was a very good game but unfortunately, at least in this site it doesn't have many fanfics telling the story behind.**

 **Recently, Red Hook published three more character background, and I thought I have enough material to get a story with some official sources (there are still 7 characters without their comic if you count The Musketeer).**

 **I have to thank my good friend pyro-rocketeer here for making sure I didn't screw with the grammar, and for the useful advices too xD. You, my dear readers, may want to go and check the stories my friend has in store for you.**

 **So, you know how this goes: you read it, enjoy it, and review if you're in the mood for it. This is TJMike, reading you till next time :)**

* * *

 **-Stanford Hamlet, Sunset-**

The old man was sitting in his favorite chair and thinking about the proposition in front of his desk. _"I guess it's the only option. Whether I like it or not, I don't see any other way."_ he thought. Hesitantly, he took the document and read it once again.

 _"Dear Mr. Colt_

 _As you know, I will be back in town in a few days. The reason for this letter is to remind you to send the letters of my desk to their respective recipients. I understand your disagreement with this decision, but you know better than anyone what my great-grandfather did to that damn place, to the once great and opulent mansion where we once lived without knowing what dwelled at their lowest basements._

 _We have been there, Mr. Colt, and we both saw the evil that lurks where my ancestor had his excavation sites. Inside it's walls there is an unspeakable horror that needs to be eradicated. Despite the fear of getting back there, we must face that darkness and try our best to contain it where it is before it spreads its tentacles to the villages near the hamlet, or worst." (...)_

August Colt heard something outside, interrupting his reading. He stood up and went to check it out, only to find the sun setting in the horizon and a few villagers doing their last chores before the night came. The noise he'd heard was nothing more than the sound of steps of a few kids helping their mother carrying a bucket filled with water from the town's well.

August smiled at the sight, before returning to his desk.

 _"(...) We do not need to face it alone. There are others out there that can help us fight whatever my ancestor awakened, and I have been able to contact some of them in my journey. Each of them has their quirks, some more notable than others I dare to say, but I know we will manage to put these individuals together as a team, as an army against the Darkness. As I mentioned before, you will find a number of letters in my desk in the house at the hamlet. I need you to send them to their respective destinies and stay there until my arrival. Your opposition to bringing stranger to our lands is understandable, but, as father used to say, desperate times call for desperate measures._

 _Since I have already contact some of them, the first carriages and stagecoaches should arrive at the town a day or two before me. You shall offer them the old guild building as shelter for spend the night until everything is explained to them by me. After all, they should know what they getting into to begin with. In the meantime, treat them well, and since I know you will be watching every move they made, for God's sake August get to know them at least. You know you're getting old when your sense of humor vanishes from the mind._

 _Wishing the best for you, the hamlet and the people that live in it,_

 _-Robert."_

"The Light protect us." August said to himself as he put the letter back in the desk.

He rose from his seat, and walked around the office. His master had left him in charge, not only of the house in which Mr. Robert Stanford, himself, and the rest of the service that attended the building resided in, but also in charge of the small village near the cursed manor. With a long sigh, he went back to the long window to take a last sight of the quiet an peaceful hamlet.

"I'm gonna miss these peaceful days," he said. The last villagers retreated to their homes, as the last lights of the day were coming to an end. "I suppose it's a small sacrifice for a greater good, if this works out."

After meditating for a few minutes, he closed the curtains, leaving the room in the dark. He walked downstairs to the first floor, and found two of the maids awake in the living room.

"Kate? Sandra? Why aren't you sleep? You finished your duties two hours ago." The old man said. Both girls were in their early twenties, but while Sandra was Caucasian with a long brunette hair and gray eyes, Kate had ebony skin, short black hair and green eyes. Both of them, however, seemed strangely disturbed by something. They turned to the man.

"The Darkness has arrived, sir." Sandra said, a strange calm in her words. Kate tried to talk to her friend, but her words didn't appear to reach Sandra. "Do you think The Light can defeat it?" she asked.

"I'm so sorry, sir." Kate tried to excuse themselves with the chief butler. "She started to speak about the Darkness, and, and its battle against the Light, and-"

"It's okay, Kate." August said raising a hand to appease her. "I don't know the answer to that, Sandra my dear." he replied, taking a seat beside the girls. "We can only hope the Darkness stays until dawn, and the Light prevail until twilight. After all, it's a balance between the two of them," the man said. Both girls nodded in agreement. "Let's hope the master's plan works properly." With that said, he let the maids to stay for as long as they wished, and retired to bed.

The long night had arrived.

 **-A few hours later; Francfort, Germany-**

"So, that concludes our business meeting." Robert said. The person in front of him was, for all purposes, a fine young woman in her mid twenties, whose attire hinted at some knife hilts protruding from her jacket. telling him that it was not a very good idea make this woman angry. She had shoulder-long blond hair, and deep brown eyes. She looked at him intently.

"I suppose so." she replied nonchalantly, still not buying what he just proposed to her. "Just to be sure: You're gonna pay me a full year for being part of this... little "project" of yours, PLUS living expenses AND I get to keep whatever I find in this place you mentioned?" She asked. "Mr. Robert... Do you realize how that sounds? I mean, do you even know what my line of work is?"

Robert sighed. He knew hiring the ones he'd chosen won't be easy to begin with, but the hardest part was to prove them he wasn't joking around. He pulled his black briefcase from beneath the table, and began to look for something within.

"All you just mentioned is correct, Ms. Gardner." he said as he got an envelope labeled with her name, Amelia Gardner, and put it in front of her.

She opened it slowly, and looked at the contents. It was a collection of several documents, like 'Wanted' posters, copies of police reports, sketches of a few known artifacts that went missing over the years, among other pieces of intel. In the poster, it said she was looked for the crimes of thief, pillage, grave robbing, assault, among others. She took her time to examine the papers and then looked back to the man.

"As you can see, I am very aware of your set of skills... and also that "Gardner" is not your real last name, am I right?" Robert said that last part almost as a whisper, only for her to listen.

That caught the attention of Amelia, whom all this time she'd been acting under the tough girl role.

"Who are you?" she asked, slowly pulling one of her knives from her jacket, pointing directly at the man's blue eyes.

"Someone with a job to be made, and the money to pay someone to do it." He replied unfazed. _"This guy is serious. Most men of his age would already be trying to convince me to drop the knife, or offering more money to let them go. But he's different."_ Amelia thought. After a while, she lowered the dagger.

"Fine. Just let me get some stuff from my house." she said. "Where should I go, in case I decide to help you?"

"Just ask any coach to take you to the hamlet near the Stanford Manor, the one by the Old Road." Robert said as he got up. "They know where it is."

"The haunted one?" She asked with a smirk on her face. The man turned to see her, his stern expression looking right at her. "Please sir, everyone knows the legends. People talk, you know." Robert just nodded to her in silence, for he didn't dare to mention her the horrors of the manor he once lived in.

"Try to stay out of troubles if you decide to come with me." Robert said before turning to the door of the establishment. "I'd hate to see the law officers turning my town upside down because of you."

"You got it, potential-boss." Amelia said with a mock salute gesture.

Robert couldn't help but shake his head, and then he left the bar. Outside, his carriage was waiting for him, and once he got up the vehicle began its march throught the narrow street of the city.

"I'm gonna go wild and say the girl said 'yes', right?" the man at the right of Robert said. He turned to see a man about his same age, with a few scars on his face and very short black hair. The man was wearing a long grey overcoat on top of a brown shirt, and was using a pale yellow scarf around his neck.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she refused to partake in Lord Stanford's adventure. It is not for the faint of heart." Another male voice said from the seat in front of him. This individual was entirely covered in a full knight armor but the helmet, which was under his seat, with a fine blue cloth over his chest plate. The knight had his light brown hair in a short pony tail and piercing blue eyes.

"Actually Reynauld, Mr. Dismas is right once again. Ms. Amelia doubted me at first, but then I convince her of the gravity of the matter in question." Robert said.

"Ha! Told ya! Now you owe me 25 coins." Dismas proudly announced.

"Fine." Reynauld admitted, pulling a small sack of coins and handled it to Dismas. "I understand you have one more name in your list, sir?"

"Indeed." Robert replied, as he knocked behind him to attract the attention of the coach driver.

"Yes, sir?" The old man asked.

"Take us to this address, please." Robert said, handling the man a piece of paper.

"Of course, sir. But it'll take a while." the driver warned, before closing the small window of the carriage. "You may want to get some sleep till we get there."

"Who is it this time?" Dismas asked.

"Someone who may save our lives with her knowledge. The last name before we get to our destination." Robert said before leaning back and lower his hat to cover his eyes. "Dr. Isabella de la Croix."

 **-Meanwhile, At an Unknown Location-**

Three figures stood before the large circular table in the center of a huge room. Their faces were covered in shadows, however, as the only light came from the table itself. One was a man in his forties wearing a most elegant attire. It was a black shirt under a red closed overcoat except the first two buttons. The coat had a single black stripe running on both sides, and dark gray pants.

The second figure was a woman in his late twenties; she wore a light green sleeveless dress with golden details around tiny emeralds adorning it.

The third presence was a young male clad in a steel armor set; the chest plate had a particular emblem carved in it, like an arrow pointing up and to the right.

"So, you are the one your father sent here after all." the older man said.

"That's right." the younger one replied. "He thought I could learn a few tricks in here rather than my usual post."

"I'm glad he saw it that way." the man said. He stared back at the table, which showed an image in it surface. It depicted the inside of a coach, where two men, one of them wearing a full on armor, where asleep sitting across each other while a third was still vigilant of the road.

"What do you think about this?" the man asked. "Do you think it's gonna work?"

"I'm not sure, uncle." the young in armor said. "I mean, he was rather insistent when he asked my father for help but..."

"It's okay." The woman spoke for the first time since they entered in that room. "I know they look week, but humans have the potential to accomplish great things given the right conditions."

The man smiled at her. He couldn't help but feel amazed by her faith in mankind. With an expectant look, he looked once again into the images on the table.

"But, what if the Darkness is stronger than them?" the young asked. "... What if they fail?"

"They won't." the woman replied. "But, if they do," she said, as a current of green energy came to her hand. "It will be our turn."


	2. Chapter 2

**General Author Note: Special thanks to my friend SoreinaHiwatari001, who helped me with the grammar on this episode. Be sure to go to her profile and check out her awesome RWBY, Beyblade and Red vs Blue stories. Without more delay, I let you with the next chapter of Against all Darkness (I promise the next chapters are gonna have a title lol.)**

 **2\. One More for the Road**

 **-Strasbourg streets, Morning-**

The stagecoach finally came to a stop after some good twelve hours on the road, in which Dismas kept counting, again and again, the money he won from the knight the last few days. The former highwayman had earned a good amount so far, and he still didn't know what was exactly the job he was hired for, but he didn't mind. As long as the money keep flowing into his pockets, he'll stay around this Mr. Stanford.

"I'm going to ask you two gentlemen to come with me this time," Robert stated before getting down of the stagecoach.

"Um... of course," Reynauld said a bit confused. "May I ask why this change in approach?" the knight asked. In all the visits the group made Mr. Stanford always went to these meeting alone, hoping that a personal and private chat would make the individuals the Heir intended to hire or recruit would trust him a bit more.

"Well, unlike the people we meet so far," Robert said, grabbing his black leather briefcase from beneath his seat. "She is... different."

"Whaddya mean?" Dismas asked, making Robert turn to him suddenly.

"I had thought, Mr. Dismas, that our agreement was: I give you the information required to complete the job, and in return I pay you. Nothing more." Robert replied coldly. Dismas was taken aback by the comment, this being the first time both he and Reynauld heard Robert anything close to being upset.

"You're in charge," Dismas said back and went ahead of the duo before he could say something that could cut off his money source.

"Wait!" Robert said. The Highwayman slowly came to a halt. "I must apologize. This has nothing to do with you. It's just..." he said.

"Fine," Dismas said after a while. He sighed. "I guess everyone has their own demons, huh?"

"You are right about that," Robert said, recovering his usual emotionless tone. "The thing is, I trust Dr. De la Croix and I was intending to tell her about the nature of this job, and since you two are here I want to inform you as well." He turned to the coachmen "Wait here."

"Of course, sir."

He turned back to his two companions. "After all, you should know what are you getting into. Over here gentlemen." He lead them to one of the main squares of the city, the Place Kléber. "I have sent the doctor a letter beforehand to meet with her near Jean-Baptiste's statue."

"Ah, such a place, with all the historic value it harbors." Reynauld began. "We must feel honored to walk over the grave of a great hero."

"The only thing I see is a big, open place. Perfect for an ambush" Dismas said, looking cautiously in every direction. "I don't like it here."

"Come on, Dismas! Try to enjoy a bit of this magnificent place." the knight said before noticing a peculiar looking woman in her mid-twenties sitting on a bench facing the giant statue. She was wearing a green and black medic attire, which was distinctive from her line of work except for the infamous peak mask the doctors used to wear. Leaving the way she was dressed and the fact that she wasn't wearing her hood, it was undeniable to think of her as beautiful, with green eyes and long brunette hair combed in a ponytail. "Besides, I think we're back to business. Sir, you mentioned she was a doctor, right?"

"Yes," Robert said. He looks in the direction Reynauld was, and the tiniest trace of a smile carved its way into his face. "Yeah, it's her."

Isabella de la Croix decided to wait for Robert while reading some of her patients' files. For better of worse, she was the kind of women that carried part of her workload with her at all times. That day, she also took a few documents about the newest techniques and methods regarding her area of expertise: Epidemiology. When she wasn't taking care of somebody's kid, or helping with the rehab of some soldier's leg, she was at the vanguard of the latest findings on new diseases, bacteria, and viruses. She spotted Robert and his... rather distinctive companions with ease as they approached to meet her.

"Ah, it's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Stanford," she said

"The pleasure is mine, as always," Robert said. "This are Mr. Dismas Gavrielatos and Mr. Reynauld Martell. Gentlemen, this is Dr. Isabella de la Croix"

"Just Dismas. Nice to meet you." the man said, waving a hand nonchalantly.

"A pleasure to be your acquaintances, my lady." Reynauld greeted. He leaned in and was about to kiss her hand when she suddenly retreated it.

"Don't take this the wrong way Sir Reynauld, I'm truly glad to meet both of you, but I just got out from the sick bay inside a communal house," Isabella explained. "You don't know the kind of pathogens lying in those places".

"Oh my, you're right. Thank you." the knight said. Maybe that was the reason for neither Mr. Standford nor Dismas to shake hands with her, Reynauld thought.

"Real stuck in the 'gentleman' role, aren't ya?" Dismas asked, a grin on his face.

"T-that's not..." Reynauld was caught off guard. Isabella giggled at the knight's reaction.

"Where did you get your new friends, Mr. Stanford?" Isabella asked, giving them a good look after the initial impression. "With all due respect, sir, they don't seem your kind of people."

"I may tell you later. We need to discuss some business first." Robert said, gesturing the other to follow him further into the square.

 **-A few hours later, Somewhere along the Old Road-**

"Please! Have mercy!" a man cried. The scene could have been mistaken as just another assault on a stagecoach; there was a group of at least fifteen men with daggers and guns, tattered robes, and menacing looks on their faces. There was also two men, a woman, and a child on their knees, raising their hands and handling their belongings, and a dead coachman a few yards away from the coach itself.

"Shut up!" one of the bandits yelled as he hit the man in the head with the back of his gun, knocking the man and rendering him unconscious. "You'll speak only when Big Boss says so."

"Please! Let us go! We'll say nothing about you to the lawman!" the woman cried. She was hugging the little boy trying to protect him.

"I said shut up!" the bandit said and was about to hit the lady when a powerful 'bang' was heard by all the presents. A few seconds later, the bandit dropped to the ground... dead.

"I demand respect from my men," a deep voice spoke, hidden between the rest of the gang. "However, what good is respect for if they just keep doing as they please in my behalf?!"

"Wha-?! Sir, you killed him!" one of them said. "He was about to teach this bitch some respect!"

"No." the silhouette of a man standing up came to sight. It was taller than most of the bandits, and they all got out of his way once he began to walk towards the hostages. "He was about to beat a woman who tried to defend her child from a thief. None of you will be laying a finger on them."

The woman looked at the place where the voice came from. "Thank you, good sir. I don't know what I'll do if I -" she began

"Shut up." the man cut her off as he began to walk towards them. What the man and his family saw was a bearded man in his early forties, with a fierce yet calm expression on his face and a scar over and below his left eye. The man was mostly dressed as the rest of his men, with the exception being a wolf's fur surrounding his neck, working as both an extra protection against the cold and a symbol of his authority over his band of brigands. "My name is Vvulf. And I may be many things, but a 'good sir' isn't one of them."

Just as he said that the howling of a few wolfs or wild dogs nearby the camp where they were at the moment sounded close enough for the woman to get pretty anxious. "What was that?!" she asked, knowing very well what the answer would be. A small grin appeared on Vvulf's face.

"A proof that I'm not a good man. Take them to the back of the camp!" he ordered.

"Wha-! But you said -" the woman said as she fought the criminals who tried to get her and her son to their feet. They also dragged the still unconscious man with them.

"I said none of my men would be laying a finger on all of you." Vvulf said as the expression on his face turned into a sadistic smirk. "But the dogs still need to eat."

"N-no! You can't do this to us!" the woman cried as they took her and her family to the wolfs. Vvulf signaled a few of his men to follow him towards the bonfire near them. Their camp wasn't that big, but with its numerous tents, a place for the stuff they got from assaults and theft, not to mention the five bonfires around, it was large enough to consider this place a base of sorts for the brigands of the Old Road. Vvulf lead the small group to a big tent near the center of the camp.

"We need to set more ambushes in the roads." he began as he put a map describing the Old Road, and the several routes inside the forest as well as the most visited zones by stagecoaches and diligences. "We need to get every coin we can before winter comes our way."

"Yeah, if we try it by then, the snow will become a problem." one of them said.

"But we're gonna need more men to do so." the third man said. He then pointed a few areas on the map that were painted in red. "And if we want this to work out, we're gonna need to scavenge 'those' places too. You know that, right Boss?"

Before Vvulf could say anything else, a scream broke the silence across the camp. And he couldn't suppress a brief smirk. "Then send our best scouts there, Kram. Let them know only what they need to know about those places," he ordered to his lieutenant. He turned to the second one. "Termus, grab a few of your men and go to the near cities. See if you can get in contact with the local mobs."

"I can go, but they won't listen to us if we don't go with something to offer. You know how they run business," Termus said. A faint smirk formed again in the bandit chief's face as he came to a realization.

"Then tell them," Vvulf said, his sight set on a specific part of the map. One where all the red areas were connected one way or another. "we'll have something for them should they decide to cooperate with us."

"What would that be?" Termus, a bit intrigued himself.

"A hamlet," Vvulf said with a grin. The screams ceased, and a heavy silence came after that.

Indeed, the scene could have been mistaken as just another assault on a stagecoach. Except that this wasn't just another assault. Something much, much greater than that was being plotted inside the tent on the center of that camp.

 **-Meanwhile, at the Hamlet-**

News about Mr. Stanford's 'guests' spread like wildfire, and were received in several ways among the population of the small town. Given recent the increase in attacks by the bandits who inhabited the dense forest at the side of the village, some thought that it would be a good idea to hire some mercenaries to defend them against future assaults. Others, however, were not so open to the idea of letting strangers enter their lands freely. And there were a few, among the elders, who still remembered the atrocities that a group of strangers had put them through, a lifetime ago.

The town was literally divided in front of the dilapidated tavern, the place where people usually met to hear the latest announcements involving the entire community. Carl Dereck, a bald man in his fifties, with a long, blond mustache, who wore a brown leather vest over a cotton shirt, stood by the door of his business, studying the crowd.

"But, I still don't get it, Mr. Colt." a man at the front of the reunited crowd said. "Why hire so many warriors?"

"Mr. Stanford would have his reasons," August answered. "But don't worry, he'll make sure they don't cause more problems than they are intended to solve."

"... Still, this whole thing sounds dangerous," a woman said, with her two kids by her side. "I could understand two or three strangers in town, but a whole band of armed men, wandering around like they own the place?"

"I don't think we should worry that much," another man said. "As long as we pay them up and keep the tavern stocked with booze well be fine. We better ready our coins back at home, eh?"

"That won't be necessary," August assured him. "Mr. Stanford himself has said he'll take care of that."

"Well, that's a new one," Carl said. The old bartender had a reputation for being a reserved man, so his sudden interruption surprised those present. "That guy barely knew about this town until a couple of months ago, and in all that time he has not bothered to invest a single coin in this place. Not that I complain or anything, but why now that some strangers come to this, our home, is that he shows a sudden interest in rehabilitating it?"

"The important thing here, Mr. Dereck, is that the hamlet WILL be rehabilitated," August replied. "Listen, I'm not comfortable with this either. But it shouldn't take any longer than a month." Seeing that most of the people had calmed down, he continued. "A work crew will arrive here in a few hours to help us reopen the old guild building in order to host the guests, and from there, the rest of the town will follow."

"We'll see about that." the bartender said as he watched the crowd, which was dispersed shortly thereafter. Carl went into his business and began attending to those who entered the tavern. After pouring some drinks and stopping a few drunken brawls, Carl noticed a hooded figure seated by the bar. The bartender would have sworn there wasn't anybody there a moment ago, and he would have noticed if someone as shady as that guy walked through the front door. "Can I get you anything, pal?" he asked, with the friendly tone characteristic of anyone who attends a bar.

The man turned to him, the light of the place covering the face under the red hood. The stranger seemed to be in his thirties, with very short hair and a stern look, and a very particular scar across his left eye. "Just a beer. I won't stay for much longer now." was his answer. Carl nodded and poured his drink. He wasn't sure he had seen him before, but it didn't care. He had enough problems with the recent events in his once peaceful village as it was.


End file.
